Luna: Diplomacy's Other (Treatment) Option
In soon-to-come retrospect, Luna would quickly locate the irony of it all: namely, that she had already been experiencing some degree of false illness. The nausea of anticipation.
It wasn't the Open Palace session, for the palace hosted the event for the Lunar shift once per moon. Ordinary citizens stood in lines which wound about the marble halls, waiting for their chance to speak directly with a Princess -- generally in hopes of discovering exactly how a single word from royalty would magically solve all of their troubles. Strictly speaking, Luna didn't always enjoy the meetings: too much pettiness trotted into her throne room, and even when it temporarily stepped aside to let another have a turn -- so many such encounters were about personal problems, and she was fully aware that when it came to matters of heart, family, and love, the powers of a Princess were strictly limited. But there were times when she did find solutions, and... it was a chance for her subjects to know her a little better. Perhaps a few would even begin to perceive her as a pony, as opposed to a source of endless intimidation or -- worse.
Still... the encounters had been going on for hours. The session had, in fact, stretched out well past its usual deadline. By design.
She was tired. Weary on the emotional level which arose when she once again realized that there were self-labeled sapients in the realm who could perceive no solution to their dilemmas other than royal intervention, because surely a Princess would be able to order their neighbor into nibbling the unruly lawn down to a proper height. Somewhat achy, but that was probably to be expected after remaining upon her throne for such a long time. The headache was easily put down to the sheer number of idiots she'd been forced to deal with --
-- and I should look at that as being what the cinema calls a 'sneak preview' --
-- and on a very real level, the thing she currently wanted second-most in the world was the comforting coolness of her own bedsheets. The final barrier against the heat of an early summer Sun, as she slept and hoped to find a better world when Moon was raised once again.
Claiming the desire which occupied first place was presently seen as impossible.
"You look tired, Princess," Moonstone openly noted, and Nightwatch silently nodded. (There were Guards in the room for all such sessions, and they generally remained in place for the same reason each visitor to the Open Palace meetings was carefully screened: the sisters weren't stupid.)
"I suppose I would," Luna carefully failed to yawn. "Given the -- temporal circumstances."
"Are you up for a few more?" Nightwatch asked, and black feathers rustled from nerves. "Um. Obviously that's your decision, but if you do want to stop, then it won't be any trouble to clear out the rest of the line. Especially since we've gotten so much deeper into it than the usual."
"At this point," Luna told them, "meeting an additional number would be mandatory. That is the plan, Nightwatch. Bring the next to greet me."
The pegasus nodded, then nosed the Moonrise Gate open and stepped into the hallway.
A few seconds passed. The alicorn felt every last one of them dragging a trench through her fur.
Finally, the doors opened again, and a rather young, slender fuchsia earth pony mare stepped in. Four half-knocking knees forced themselves to approach the base of the throne, and Luna carefully considered the effort involved. It was actually rather impressive to see how the feat was being managed, especially when the joints were visibly trying to make the journey without the rest of the legs.
Pale green eyes slowly looked up at her. Blinked a few times in an attempt to fight back weariness, stress, and a fully-unexpected source of illumination.
A very nervous "...Princess?" finally drifted up to her on a less than subtle current of sweat.
Which wasn't exactly the least common opener. "Greetings, citizen," Luna steadily said. (Her head swam. She crossly instructed it to wait until she could reach her bath, along with ordering the skull to stand by for the whole of the body.) "Your name?"
The mare thought about the query for a while. No answers came to mind.
"Princess?" was repeated, only with double the anxiousness. Both Guards watched with well-masked pity.
"Yes," a significant amount of weariness noted, followed by partially spreading oddly-sore wings as a touch of darkness briefly danced on the tip of her horn. (The world's most skilled illusionist briefly considered creating a false animation as further proof, perhaps springing something on a tapestry into life -- but the mare was already unnerved.) "The observation would be correct. I have been identified. However, as I am still somewhat less familiar with you, I once again inquire as to your name --"
"-- I can leave," the mare hastily said. "Right now. If that's okay."
"This is an Open Palace session," Luna softly told the nervous pony. "All are welcome. You have stood in line for hours, citizen, all under Moon. Simply to speak with me. Surely there must be some topic which you felt was worth the time. Such as the offering of your name?"
"But it's not your time," the mare helplessly told her. "Not any more. So I should leave. I can come back next moon --"
Royalty blinked.
"Not my time?" Luna asked. "What, exactly, do you mean?"
The mare's head tilted to the left. Luna looked.
There were heavy blackout curtains over the high-set windows. There had also been an intense argument between two pegasi earlier in the session, and the anger-created wind had shifted the fabric.
A beam of sunlight was in her throne room.
Luna regarded the illumination for a few seconds. There was dust dancing in the beam, because dust always danced within sunlight. She didn't find the presence of the dust offensive. The palace was old, and any structure so ancient was difficult to clean completely. You couldn't truly eliminate the dust of age, and you certainly couldn't keep it away from sunlight.
Which meant that dust should be coming off her sister's fur at all times. And dancing.
(She was allowed to have such thoughts. Her sister was the oldest mare in the world. The fact that Luna was a whole two years younger entitled her to endlessly mock the elder for that.)
"I am aware that it is morning," the alicorn wearily said. "And that the session generally terminates somewhat before this. I also possess a distinct recollection of having lowered Moon at some point. However, this particular Open Palace was intended to proceed through a portion of Princess Celestia's hours, as my goal is to eventually be awake much deeper into the day. You may stay --"
"-- you're trying to stay awake under Sun?" the stunned mare broke in. "Why?"
The Guards silently, motionlessly watched. Luna considered the question.
Well... at least she's talking...
"There is a -- diplomatic function of sorts," she finally said. "Which will take place a week from today. Meeting certain -- personages from the other nations. The full Diarchy shall be in attendance, and the gathering only ends when the last guest leaves. And as it is a luncheon, there is a certain need to be conscious."
Even if sleeping is the better option.
The one where I don't have to put up with any of it.
...unless the stupid thing manifests in my dreams again, because of course I can't control my own nightscape and I wind up being bored to death while I'm asleep...
"So I am attempting to slowly -- and temporarily -- alter my schedule," Luna finished. "All the better to go about in some degree of comfort under Sun --"
The mare blinked.
"-- you can be directly under Sun?"
Luna didn't shout. She didn't raise her voice, nor did she allow that odd weariness to touch her voice. It was a question which had been asked too many times. "Yes," generally sufficed, although the followup "If you wish, I can stand within that stray beam and demonstrate how I do not catch fire," was new.
"A diplomatic luncheon," the mare thoughtfully considered.
"Correct."
"That sounds exciting!"
It isn't.
Maybe if it was the ambassadors, it would be. Official envoys from the other nations... the ones who last in the position need to be social. They understand how to interact. Some of them even know how to laugh.
But I looked at the guest list. I kept looking at it, just in case it transmuted into something else. These are politicians. The ones who perceive Honesty as the enemy. They won't believe any truth because they never speak it. Most of them have utter faith in the power of lies, and a number keep trying to make their own falsehoods replace the sin of facts. Rumormongers and fear spreaders, none of whom have ever found a tale they wouldn't believe as long as it cranks the terror all the higher. Even when doing so scares themselves. And I'm tired of those who'll put their trust in any lie. Especially when it's about me.
...although there are times when it's useful...
This is the first such luncheon I'll attend since my Return. And they collectively demanded that it be held at noon, likely to catch me at what they decided was my weakest and most vulnerable. And Tia is insisting that we have to be there together.
I don't want to go.
But it didn't matter. There were ways in which a Princess had very little power, and even less in the way of choices.
"It is not," Luna simply said, and briefly regarded the dance of the dust again. The patterns were almost hypnotic. "Let that suffice. So, as we are clearly speaking to each other -- may I gain the knowledge of your name --"
Her snout twitched.
Ribs convulsed.
Wings, which generally didn't know what to do in such situations, tightly folded and thus got to enjoy the enhanced effect of the first muscle spasm.
Luna sneezed. Half-clear droplets flew everywhere, dampening a few wall hangings.
Then she coughed. Several times, to the point where her own left forehoof tried to rap on her sternum to make it stop. The regalia got in the way.
Eventually, the attack eased.
"...my apologies," she tried to restart. "So, as to continue with the previous inquiry --"
The Moonset Gate opened.
Then it closed.
And there was one Guard in the room.
Nightwatch's silver eyes blinked helplessly at Luna. Moonstone was now only present as the echo of fast-moving hooves.
"...Princess?" asked a very worried earth pony mare. "We can stop. Maybe we should stop. I think you need to stop. Right now."
Oh no...
"We proceed," Luna firmly said, and tried not to think about whether the new rasp in her throat was diluting the royal tones. "Your name?"
"...Candlelight," the mare finally admitted. "...where did the other Guard go?"
"Out," Luna technically failed to lie. "And your issue?"
She listened. And as she did so, she wrapped her soul in armor of dread. She knew where Moonstone was going.
Her Guards were present to protect her. And in the name of that goal, Moonstone had galloped off to tattle. Looking for a pony who had authority.
A day is never so bad that it can't get worse.
It's going to be one of the Bears...
An incident which had taken place slightly over two years into the Return had seen the long-defunct post of Royal Physician revived, and the post was now occupied by a pair of medical professionals. But as Luna clearly had no need of the surgeon, her forced interaction was with the diagnostician.
He was a middle aged unicorn with white fur, oddly-intense blue eyes, and a well-known tendency to get lost within the endless depths of his own imagination: any member of the palace staff who encountered him in a frozen state was advised to steer around the body until the latest fantasy finally resolved.
There was something attractive about his features, but -- not in a conventional way. He sometimes came across as the product of a sculptor who had run low on material and decided to compensate with a mix of parts from previous first drafts: a mouth which was somewhat too wide, a bit of a point at the end of the snout, and too many unicorns already presented the appearance of being 50% forehead: the additional tenth wasn't helping. The build was almost waifish, with what felt like a nearly-fatal lack of muscle tone. He didn't appear to have the strength to hold up the weight of the palace's highest-piled mane, and Luna generally assumed that one of the many homemade tonics was producing an antigravity effect.
The voice was higher-pitched than the average stallion. He was prone to episodes of stress, most of which were self-imposed. The physician seemed to eat very little, and mostly lived off his nerves.
"This is the last sample," Doctor Vanilla Bear very probably lied.
"The truly final confiscation," Luna inquired with completely false patience, "or the 'final until the moment when you think of something else' version?"
There was a too-close rumble of thunder. The section of the palace gardens which had been themed to the region of the doctor's medical school suffered through the fifth hit.
"...two more," Vanilla finally admitted.
"Do you know what this is?" Luna crossly checked, and shifted her position on the examination bed. Her left wing was trying to tell her that the recently-confiscated pinion had been essential in some way. It wasn't. Keeping the electrical expression of her frustrations directed away from the doctor was, but he made it so hard...
"Very likely," he quickly assured her. "I've been fairly certain about the diagnosis since you trotted in."
Seven more unseen dark clouds instantly coalesced over the gardens.
"Then if you have been 'fairly certain' this whole time," Luna forced out, "why is any of this necessary?"
"Because it's the same for any patient," he told her. "I want to be completely certain. A little more, Princess."
Two more samples were collected. (It took a spark-filled glare to keep it from becoming three.) He busied himself with potions and chemicals for a time, examining shaved fur and little vials of half-clear mucus. Luna, whose link to Moon provided her with supernatural immunity to cold, irritably wondered if the examination bed was ever going to start warming up. Maybe she needed to adjust the palace's climate system. In summer.
Of course, properly tweaking the weave of pegasus magic would mean leaving the offices. The physicians had set up within the palace, all the better to guarantee patient privacy -- but the medical rooms were nowhere near the heart of the loom.
"Equufluenza," the physician finally pronounced. And to Luna, the most amazing part was that he did so with a smile.
Luna blinked.
"I am familiar with the condition," she told him. "It existed prior to my abeyance. I also know there was very little which could be done about it. Several nights spent in low-key misery --"
"-- but science and magic have advanced, Princess," Vanilla broke in. He was still smiling. "We can do things which weren't considered possible before you --" the pause was exceptionally awkward, and the mane swayed accordingly "-- had to... step away..."
"Advances."
Which got her a rather enthused "Yes!"
"Such as with the cream?" the alicorn half-spat.
Her body wasn't perfectly adapted to a mostly-nocturnal existence. In particular, she was prone to conditions which could arise from a lack of sunlight exposure. One of those was a stubborn, almost paranormally-itchy fungal infection of the skin. Treatment required either obnoxious amounts of Sun time, having Tia effectively burn it off her, or the cream.
"...yes," the doctor reluctantly admitted. "But... well, it's the selenium base, Princess. It's hard to keep it from stinking."
"And clearing out a room."
"...yes."
"Along with a portion of the palace's Lunar wing --"
"-- it still works," said an oddly defensive stallion. "Eventually. Not every solution is perfect, Princess. You know that better than most. But this --" the blue eyes were bright, as if lit from within "-- things change, Princess. And that's not just medicine. Species change. They evolve."
Luna bitterly wondered whether professional politicians needed to be considered as their own species and, if so, just how close she would come to disproving evolution. Or rather, demonstrating its potential to either select for the least viable traits or kick the entire process into reverse --
-- increasing irritation from all the time under Sun and then the stupid luncheon on top of it --
"And diseases can change," Vanilla added. "We're starting to believe that each one may effectively be its own species. And they do adapt, Princess: we've seen that. They might try to resist the cures we create. Or they find themselves in a host which they normally couldn't affect, and -- mutate. Change, until they're capable of causing illness again in the new body. It's why the battle never completely ends, and --" his tone dropped "-- it's one of the reasons we're always worried about the two of you. Because an alicorn body is like nothing else in the world, and if one of you --"
He stopped.
Blue eyes spontaneously unfocused.
His head tilted up, and slightly to the right.
After a few seconds, Luna carefully waved her left forehoof in front of his face. There was no reaction.
She sighed. Counted to herself, checked her own timing against the clock, and then forced her sore body off the examination bed. This was clearly going to be one of the longer daydreams, and that made it a good time to stretch --
-- which was when she heard the knock at the outer door.
"Excuse me?" asked a slightly worried mare voice. "Is anyone in there? I have a delivery, and the door is locked..."
Ah. Well, of course the doors were locked: an alicorn patient required privacy. But she saw no reason to turn the deliverypony away. Getting this deep into the palace when you weren't a member of the staff required significant effort, multiple clearances, and a few checkpoints. It would be unfair to put somepony through it twice in one day.
"I am coming," she told the unseen mare, and carefully trotted towards the door. Sore muscles protested, and she sent her corona ahead to the lock. Saving some space.
The door opened. The pegasus on the other side stared.
"...you're Princess Luna."
It wasn't the least common observation. "Yes," the alicorn patiently said, and regarded the delivery basket which had been balanced on the mare's back. It seemed to be full of vials.
"...I..." considered lightly trembling feathers, "need to deliver these to the doctors..."
"I shall take custody," Luna offered.
"They have to be signed for," declared a fast-increasing amount of stress. "By the doctors. Or... a ranking member of the palace staff..."
"I believe," the returned Princess said, "I would qualify for the latter. Enter." Perhaps Vanilla Bear would return to the real world in time to sign for the vials himself.
The mare timidly followed her in, then paused to stare at the frozen stallion. Luna's corona ignited again, carefully unloading the contents of the basket onto a nearby table.
"Do you have an inventory form?"
"...yes."
"A receipt document?"
"...yes."
"And a quill."
"...yes."
"I am aware that there are numerous quills in this office," Luna added. "For some reason, any such implement which is kept here becomes incapable of producing a legible signature. But perhaps the effect has yet to saturate yours. Let us see. Yes, this count looks correct. I believe I can sign in safety. So if you happen to see a bottle of ink about --"
The doctor's head dipped. Blue eyes blinked.
"...and you'd need to find a tiebreaker before you knew whether the phlegm actually won..." he non-sequitured.
The pegasus, who wasn't within his current visual field, froze. Luna, who was more or less used to it, waited for the rest.
"Anyway," Vanilla continued as if nothing had happened at all, "imagine if a disease found itself in an alicorn body for the first time! Maybe it wouldn't affect you at all, even if it can target every other species of pony. But it might also start to change. Mutate, trying to become something which could make you ill. Or you could wind up immune, but the disease might shift into something which could make somepony else sick. It might even evolve to the point where it had the ability to affect someone. There's a theory which says that just about anything could happen, and when we already know that you're ill --"
There was a gasp.
Wings flared. Flapped. The usual backblast of wind kicked the unsigned receipt form into an anatomy chart.
They both heard the door slam.
Vanilla frowned.
"That was odd," the unicorn decided. "Did something happen to the acoustics in here? We usually don't get noises from outside -- wait." He frowned at Luna. "When did you get off the bed?"
She held back the sigh, climbed back into place. "Do not concern yourself." She'd have to have the signed paperwork sent back by palace courier. "Continue with the current topic?"
"I was just about to say that it's highly unlikely," Vanilla told her. "Your body isn't a hospitable place for a lot of diseases. It's why you've never had Rhynorn's Flu, even when both of you can use unicorn magic." He shrugged. "Low-probability at at best. Probably almost impossible. But with diseases, you never know. There are things you can catch, and this is one of them. So we worry."
"And when it comes to -- advances? For equufluenza?" Which she'd had before, and should have recognized. Multiple cycles of doing almost nothing but waiting until she felt better...
"One dose," Vanilla smiled. "And it's over."
Dark eyes stared at the doctor.
"A single dose," Luna carefully said.
"That's it."
"Side effects?"
"Does feeling better within ten minutes count?"
"...as that would be the intended central purpose," Luna considered, "no."
He was still smiling.
"I'll just go prep the treatment," he told her. "It won't take long. The mix is standard. And we already know it's safe for alicorns. The records say Princess Celestia had to get a dose two centuries ago, and there weren't any problems. There's just one minor bad part, but -- it's fast."
She immediately presumed it tasted horrible, which seemed to be medication's default prerogative. The wonders of the modern age. Which were generally rather less wondrous than advertised -- but there were times when the new world surprised her.
Luna tried to settle onto the bed. The ridiculously thin padding fought back.
The stallion moved out of sight. She heard vials begin to clink.
Ten minutes. As opposed to several nights. Possibly more if I truly exerted myself. Nights in which I'd just be sick --
-- wait.
Because she'd just thought of something.
I'm sick
She could hear liquids being poured. A fizzing as they mixed.
I'm sick.
"I have just recalled a vital duty," Luna declared.
The clinking stopped. Most of the fizzing kept going.
"Princess," Vanilla said, and there was an odd tone to it. It wasn't a query. Technically, she wasn't even being addressed. It was... a lead-in. The opener for the rest of the sentence. Something which only two ponies in the world could say. Or, far worse, do.
"I need to attend to my duties," the younger alicorn kept going. "They are, as you are well-aware, rather vital." The repetition was for emphasis. "So we will have to continue this at another time. Of my choosing. But as my schedule is decidedly crowded, I will have to let you know when I am available --"
"-- Princess." On the verge of doing it now, as the thin body fully straightened against the burden of its own minimal mass -- and another, far greater weight.
The post of Royal Physician came with certain responsibilities. And in order to fulfill them, a number of powers had been granted. None of them were magical, and the greatest remained within what most citizens would have seen as the realm of mysticism.
Either doctor, in the name of keeping the Princesses healthy, could give the alicorns orders.
He could tell her to stay right where she was. And she would have to do it. There would be no choice. In matters of medicine, Vanilla and Chocolate Bear (no relation and (somehow) unmarried) were the ultimate override.
But Luna had been a Princess for nearly three centuries before abeyance. A term which, in the deep past, had also equated to 'General'. And before that... a soldier of sorts, in the war to determine the nature of reality. A proper soldier understood that a sensible order had to be obeyed, at least when it couldn't be creatively misinterpreted.
"Farewell!"
Her horn ignited. Light flashed.
But for all intents and purposes, an order you'd never heard didn't exist.
The area used to train rookie Guards was located well beyond Canterlot proper, fairly far around the curve of the mountain. Classes of fresh recruits would see it reserved for their exclusive use, especially since nopony else wanted to get close enough to hear the Sergeant yelling -- and with Emery Board, that safety margin required staying in Canterlot. And even when there wasn't a session in progress, the locker rooms and equipment storage were restricted to palace staff.
But the rest of the grounds... there were ways in which they were open to the public. Just about anypony could wander into the area, look at the mockup wooden combat dummies and try a few kicks. Youths liked to pretend they were protecting the Princesses, and some of those who truly embraced the dream would find those visions of heroism reflected in brightly-manifesting marks.
Or you could just use the track.
There was a dark form galloping around the perimeter. When measured against ponies, it had a land speed greater than that of all of but one. The muscles moved, sweat glistened on fur because most of the strands had absorbed too much to take in any more, and she ran. She occasionally moaned as she did so, winced frequently because her body wasn't currently meant for this and the movement came with some pain -- but she maintained the gallop.
Galloping under Sun, at a time -- she glanced up at the orb -- very close to noon. Had she still been inflicted with the luncheon, she would be very close to her temporal goal...
Luna smiled. Forced herself to accelerate, came around the curve, found a new section of the perimeter opening itself to her vision --
-- and there was a decidedly large white body standing in the observation area. A place which was usually reserved for the Sergeant. Luna assumed the slow, steady tapping of huge forehooves came along with the patch of ground.
Teleport? Fly? Run?
Instinctive queries when spotting many intruders, especially when it was an individual who had broken the protections Luna had placed around the training grounds -- and done so without triggering magical notice. But this was somepony she loved.
It still brought up the question of how she'd been found. Process of elimination, perhaps.
Luna, mindful that stopping too quickly could do its own damage, gradually slowed across the length of an additional circuit. Most of the observer gave off the appearance of patient watching. But the hoof taps accelerated.
The dark body came to a stop in front of the white one. Looked up.
"Sister," Luna greeted as sweat dripped off her sore form -- and followed by turning her head, just before the sneeze. "My apologies, but I have no desire to place mucus onto -- or into -- your snout. And there may be similar interruptions. I hardly wish to pass this on to you --"
"-- I was just reviewing the newspapers," Celestia quietly said. "The commodities market didn't have too much of a dip."
Luna shook out her wings. Sweat droplets flew off to the sides.
"Commodities?"
"I... used to do everything I could not to show signs of illness in public, while you were -- gone," the elder softly told her. "Because it was just me, and -- ponies were afraid of what might happen. The world could panic." The sigh was barely audible. "Of course, in those days, by the time the news reached the other nations, I was usually better. So it was a sort of rolling economic depression. Moving outwards in a wave. But with both of us here... the markets don't react the same way."
"Ah," was the only reply Luna could initially muster. And then the old guilt began to close in. "I did not consider economic effects. I offer apologies --"
"-- most of the articles," Celestia carefully cut her off, "are about the same subject. But 'articles' may be going too far. It's conjecture crystalized in ink. Rumors written down so they can be pinned to the page for a while. And then they leap from the text and embed themselves in the reader's brain."
"I have not been keeping up with the publications," Luna reluctantly admitted. She'd been -- busy. "If there is something significant which I missed --"
The huge right forehoof came up, gestured: wait. "Let's see if I can gallop this down for you." Purple eyes narrowed. "For starters, one of the more persistent rumors is that the Nightmare was actually a disease --"
"...what?"
"-- which is now potentially capable of spreading. Then there's the one about how if you get us within five body lengths of somepony with metritis, then anypony we come into contact with after might just melt." Far too patiently, "I know you didn't read that one. I would have heard the laughter. Or the lightning. At any rate, the commonality seems to be the prospect of alicorn diseases. Or diseases which change when inside an alicorn body. There's been a lot of opinion columns on the subject. The central qualification for getting published seems to be having no actual medical training."
Luna stood very still. Several varieties of pain worked deeper in.
"...there was a delivery mare," she finally said. "In the offices. Vanilla Bear --"
"-- it doesn't matter," Celestia quietly broke in. "This isn't the first time for that kind of wild conjecture. It'll fade. Again. I'm not angry with you. Not for that. It's nothing you did, and it'll go away. In a few weeks, at the most. Since nopony's melting." A little ruefully, "I'm speaking from experience."
"Another reason not to show illness in public," Luna expertly deduced.
"Yes." The elder sighed. "But that's not the real reason I came looking for you."
"Then...?" the younger carefully probed.
"It's been two days," Celestia reminded her. "Two days in which you've been literally galloping around with equufluenza. And flying, given that you personally decided to launch the last Wonderbolts show. From the head of the formation. You haven't been back to either of the Bears. You're too busy for one dose and somehow, whenever either of them starts to get close to you, there's an alicorn who has to be somewhere else. For that matter, your staff seems to be losing a lot of medical memos sent directly to you. By order. Yours. And they are not happy about it. Some of them are coming up on 'terrified', and others are already there."
The younger was silent.
"You've never been afraid of medicine, Luna -- well, some of the taste, and the untried stuff in our era -- everypony had reason to be nervous there. But you were willing to take risks. And even if that's somehow changed -- you know this disease. We've both had it, before and after. Even if you don't want the treatment for some reason, you know what your body needs. Rest. And I found you out at the training grounds, galloping at what was just about your full speed. Straining yourself. You're just making it worse. And..."
The elder's eyes narrowed more. Then they gave up and outright closed, as the white head dipped.
"...if you're trying to hurt yourself -- if this is --"
"-- it is not!" emerged as something perilously close to a bark. "I simply have other considerations, ones I have no obligation to explain because it is my life, my health, and I am doing nothing to truly endanger either one --"
"-- if you don't rest, you'll just stay sick, and even if that somehow doesn't have any long-term effects, you'll have to start missing things --"
Luna smirked.
There was no way for the other mare to have seen it. But they had been sisters for a long time, and some things could be felt by the soul.
Celestia's head shot up, and parted eyelids provided a window onto open fury. The flowing, half-tangible mane twisted against itself, and a quasi-solid tail lashed.
"-- that's it!" the elder nearly shouted. "That's what you're trying to do! You're trying to get out of something -- it's the luncheon, isn't it? You're doing everything you can to miss the luncheon! Because I can't ask you to go if you're sick, you're dodging the Royal Physicians so they can't apply the fast treatment, and you're out here doing personal speed trials to make sure you stay sick! So you won't recover in time to go!"
"That," Luna calmly said, "is a rather interesting theory. Very well-formed. Interestingly reasoned. Only slightly insane. I suggest passing it on to a party who has more interest in hearing it. Perhaps if we mutually agree that the staff now requires a Royal Therapist --"
"-- you're playing games with your health to get out of a diplomatic meeting --"
"-- a forced short-term imprisonment with non-convicted criminals -- no, wait: I misspoke. One of the yaks did have that felony --"
"-- and you don't know what the consequences could be --"
"-- trading one kind of illness for a lesser form?" Luna proposed. "Assuming we wish to give your 'theory' that much validity."
Celestia took a very, very deep breath. Two crucial vocal chords aligned.
"LUNA INVICTUS --"
"-- I invented the Royal Voice, sister," Luna evenly interrupted. "It does not work on me. Good day to you. And in the event that I do not recover fully in time for the luncheon, a good meal. One spent with rather poor company."
Her horn ignited. The dark corona flashed, and the younger alicorn vanished.
Anypony attempting to approach this particular occupied palace bedroom at three in the afternoon would have needed to get past seven Guards, multiple security checkpoints, and then defeat an incredible number of spells just to get the door open. The two intruders were more or less trotting up. The senior of the invaders was just that good and in the event that she hadn't been, nopony on the Lunar staff seemed to be in the mood to mount a challenge.
The entrance slowly opened. A minor effect kept all of the noise down, while pushing the majority of unwelcome light to the hallway side. There was just enough to make out shadows, and that very much included the rather large one on the bed.
It was a plain sort of bedroom. The sheets and mattress were quality, but.. the designs were nothing special. Ordinary shelves held books both new and ancient, and the desk had been a functional desk for so long that it was questionable as to whether it even knew how to become firewood. A framed sketch, ancient and precious, held a prominent place of honor on one corner. Both invaders left it alone.
The resident liked to keep things on the cool side, even in winter. Summer had the bedroom as a chill oasis within the palace, and magical immunity to cold meant the blankets were mostly present because the fabric was pleasant against fur. The greatest initial risk imposed to those who entered was a shiver fit, and the thinner set of legs was trying not to vibrate.
A mare's body was curled up on the mattress: something which was just possible to see. Heavy blackout curtains denied the entrance of sunlight, while failing to do the same for the existence of Sun.
She breathed. Ribs shifted. Feathers rustled.
A soft burst of warm yellow went off in the room. The blankets were yanked off, and hit the wall at the same moment when a blue corona pressed a thin razor against fur. Strands fell away, and a liquid-dipped cloth wiped the tiny patch of bare skin --
-- the resident had been born in the Discordian Era. Survival required the ability to wake up in something of a hurry, and the changing conditions already had dark eyes starting to open as a near anti-light of fast-approaching violence began to climb up the horn. The intruders had less than two seconds --
"-- OW!"
Luna's wings unfolded as all four legs pushed: the combination left her awkwardly spinning in midair before almost managing a rotated landing on the mattress again. Most of the half-collapse took place in a total lack of dignity, and also with a decidedly sore left buttock.
"HOW DARE YOU --"
The thin stallion pulled back slightly, moving closer to the huge white mare. But he didn't run, and his corona simply put the expended needle away.
"I told you there was one bad part," Vanilla Bear said. "I also said it was quick."
"I DID NOT DESIRE --"
"Stop."
The word hadn't come from the giant mare. The elder wouldn't have been able to make it into an order.
Luna stopped.
She could see perfectly in the dark: another one of the gifts granted by her Moon-link. It made it easy to glare at their faces, although she wasn't sure whether they even knew.
"No games," were Celestia's first words. "I know you don't want to be at the luncheon, Luna. I'd rather not go, especially when I'm stuck with all of them until the last guest leaves. But if I have to face it, I want you there with me."
"And neither of us," Vanilla added, "is willing to let you play games with your health. Because ponies shouldn't try to stay sick. This is a disease which is supposed to pass naturally in a few days, with rest. To keep it in your body for a week, deliberately straining yourself... nopony should take that risk. Not even an alicorn. Especially an alicorn. And if you try to pull this kind of stunt again, I am going to have you confined to the offices until you heal. No matter what that takes. Do you understand?"
"It is my life," declared an angry mare, speaking from the heart of the insult which had given her so few choices about how that life could go. "Mine --"
The elder didn't move. The stallion ignored the sounds produced by the five simultaneous lightning strikes in the gardens. He simply lunged.
Thin legs jumped. Put him on the mattress, staring up at her. The stupid mane nearly went into her snout, blocked some of her vision -- but there was enough left to truly see him. To witness the utter fury in his expression, and recognize that he was confronting her without fear.
She was intimidating. (There were times when she used it. Others when she hated that state.) Powerful. Capable of destroying just about anypony in an instant.
He was a physician.
He'd seen worse.
"-- then let me keep you alive."
She blinked.
Wings refolded. Multiple unseen clouds broke up.
"...yes."
He jumped down. Minimal body mass began to stomp its way out of the bedroom --
-- Vanilla Bear turned.
"You'll be better in a few minutes," he said. "Or you would be, for a normal pony who'd come to me with a normal case. But you deliberately strained yourself. So you're on bed rest for the next two days. And once I clear you, you're going to the luncheon. Got it?"
"...understood."
He looked away from her. Oriented on the door, and both mares watched him go.
The food was horrible. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to induce vomiting. That kind of illness would have given Luna an excuse.
...and it might have helped if Tia had mentioned that we were doing this outdoors...
A noon summer Sun did its best to beat down upon her. Having to work through several layers of an stupidly-elaborate dress didn't seem to be slowing it down much. But at least the shaved patch was covered.
"...rigged court!" the convicted yak told her. "All rigged. Charges. Judge. Good judge would have broken charges."
As opposed to your just breaking the law. The yak magical portfolio was for destruction -- but making a statue meant shattering a rock. This one had just decided that the rights of others were chains. And yet he was here.
Professional politicians. Fear spreaders, rumormongers, those who saw one of the fundamental pony virtues as a grievous insult and Luna didn't think the yak would have appreciated Kindness either...
Celestia was over by the buffet table, reluctantly engaging in conversation with a delegate from one of the more restrictive zebra kraals. Luna was briefly amazed that the attendee had lowered himself to speaking with a pony who could both spell and define 'freedom'. Then again, given that he'd jumped onto a bench before speaking at all, maybe lowering wasn't in play.
The crowd milled around the dark alicorn. Many of the attendees seemed to be keeping their distance. Others watched her out of the corner of their eyes.
"All better now?" the yak abruptly asked.
"You refer to my recent illness," Luna said, and the politician nodded. "Yes." Despite her best efforts to turn her last pre-luncheon bath into an outright waterlogging.
"Wanted to check," the yak told her.
"Considerate of you --"
"-- funny stories in papers," he continued. "Some worries. But you look fine. For pony."
Half-lidded eyes went over her again. They didn't pause at the dress. Fabric wasn't all that much fun to break.
Luna looked away from him and, for the first time, truly examined the crowd.
At least a dozen species -- although there were no minotaurs in attendance: Mazein had a true democracy, and having every citizen as a voting part of the government had effectively eliminated politicians. A Referee for the debates, and no more. But beyond that... criminals convicted, not yet caught, or stalling out their courts. Ne'er-do-wells. Those riding an endless power high. All looking to take advantage of her at what they saw as her weakest --
-- except that few of them were getting too close.
All of the stories in the newspapers.
They believe no truth because they never speak it.
Utter faith in lies...
"My pardon," Luna said. "I need to speak with my sibling for a moment."
She made her way through the crowd, and found much of it parting before her. Wove her way around benches, noticed that the edges of the outdoor eatery had partial walls and windows. A decorative touch.
Sun streamed through the colorful glass. Dust particles, lent hues by the staining of the silicon, danced a pattern of drifting rainbows.
Eventually, the zebra decided to stop talking. Luna waited until he'd jumped down and stalked away, then closed in. Lowered her voice.
"This continues until the last guest leaves," she checked. "Correct?"
The elder managed a very soft sigh. "Yes. By my estimation, we've got at least four hours to go." Purple eyes surveyed the rest of the buffet table. "Especially since we've got kudu here. Kudu and food..."
Luna nodded. "Sister... are you enjoying yourself?"
Celestia made an expert show of not looking around. No answer came.
The younger sibling allowed herself to drift away. Noticed how many attendees were keeping their distance. One held her breath as she passed: another tried to filter oxygen through a tablecloth.
Faith in lies.
Valuing themselves above all else...
She stopped near one of the partial walls. Looked at the sunlight, and the dust.
And to all outside appearances, that was all she initially did. Because if the world's most skilled illusionist didn't want you to see that she'd just ignited her horn, then you weren't going to perceive anything.
Luna leaned into the irritation of direct noon sunlight. Took a deep breath of the dust, because the best illusions benefited from a degree of reality.
Particulates swarmed into her lungs. Tickled her snout.
She turned to look at the luncheon gathering. Counted the number she wished to associate with, contented herself with having the total at 'one', noticed just how many were still watching her, and --
-- sneezed.
Several hundred rather noticeable, somewhat liquid, and decidedly bright green-glowing globules of something flew out of her snout.
The majority of them hit attendees.
Green didn't quite soak into fur. Luna could manage the look of it -- but doing so with so many subjects would have made the final result awkward, and nothing she did with unicorn illusion magic would have replicated the dampness.
It didn't matter. They were politicians. Actually thinking about what had happened was right out.
Screams erupted from a dozen kinds of throats. And then the professionals did what they felt their occupation was truly about. They protected themselves.
There was movement, and there was a lot of it. A quick flare of wings brought Luna above the majority.
Things got a lot easier after two of the yaks took out the partial walls.
Tables had fallen. Benches were in pieces. Most of the pastries had been trampled, and the younger sibling instinctively prepared a line about this being the world's means of telling Tia to go on a diet.
The only other remaining sapient standing within the debris took a very, very deep breath.
"LUNA INVICTUS --"
"-- it was a boring luncheon anyway," the younger smirked. "One which ends when the last guests leave, and that would appear to be us. And quite frankly, I was already -- sick of it. I am seldom awake at this hour and I have already thought of fifteen better things we could do together. Shall we go?"
The elder fumed. The air around the huge white mare burned with heat haze. But there was nothing she could say, and the siblings finally fell into hoofstep next to each other. Started towards one of the newly-created exits --
-- Celestia sneezed.
Luna looked up at her.
With open concern, "Tia?"
"...I swear it's from being in your bedroom," the elder muttered. "You keep it too cold..."
"Ah. Well. Then before we go out on the town, I suppose our first stop should be the Doctors Bear. If only to prevent any strictly accidental riots --"
"-- oh, shut up."
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Posted to
The Triptych Continuum Rebooted (group)
Unassigned (folder)
When one of the Sisters sneeze, the rest of the world panics about the world dying as the celestial bodies stop moving.
Luna has heard THAT before
The Element of Elements
Chapter 2 "The Old Problem"
This experience does not inspire confidence
I swear, you write the best Luna.
Yep, this is going to bite Luna in the flank.
Luna, you little brat!
Keep up the good work. I wanna see where this goes.
Frankly, the position is long overdue.
In any case, brilliant look at the world’s oldest bratty little sister, even if she’d strongly object to such a label. I half-expected the other luncheon attendees to crowd around her in the hopes of catching a nasty case of Nightmares. Looking forward to further installments.
... Luna, honey, you're a politician too.
I liked it. Thank you for taking the time to write despite the way the month went.
I guess Sick Little Pony III should be about a kidney stone.
oh, something about this reminded me of an old "Green Lantern Corps" comic book:
this planet was a genuine democracy, every dispute was handed by voting.
when the planet was invaded, and a green lantern dropped his ring and lantern, they voted on whether or not to use it.
they were standing in line to vote while the invaders were dropping bombs on them!
they actually said no, because it would "make one person too special"!
BUT, one person defied that ruling, and put on the ring, and said the classic oath. (he had trouble saying the "beware MY power" part)
he defeated the invaders, BUT wound up as ruler, so ANYONE who had ANY problem asked HIM.
the story ends with a married couple asking him to help then decide what color wallpaper their house should have.
Luna trying to avoid the Luncheon reminds me of one of my old favorite stories, "anything but the Gala", where Celestia keeps trying to get Luna to take her place at the Grand Galloping Gala, and Luna keeps coming up with excuses...
one excuse was that she "needed to calibrate the moon"!
Huh.
Luna as Typhoid Taylor.
At least in the end she listened to the doctor.
In a lot of ways, VB spent his entire residency training to be Luna's doctor.
There's a filly in everyone. Even Luna. (Whose inner filly is a little more headstrong than others...)
This was a good chapter. Looking forward to seeing more.
Most sneezes can be directed. An alicorn's sneeze is addressed "To Whom It May Concern"
So. How big of a part in the motivation for writing this chapter was to make "a ruler sneezes and the stock markets crash" literal? Which brings up the sequitur; who convinced ponies - a herd species - that stock markets are a good idea?
I swear Luna is always up to being no good in the best possible way.
With Luna's attempt to avoid the doctor by running from him, perhaps she has accidentally spread some novel variant of equufluenza around, this creating a common thread for this story?